Author's note: I'm new to writing these characters; hopefully I haven't messed them up too badly! This particular piece doesn't have a set timeline, but I would think it would probably have been either pre-season 6, or possibly late season 10.

I don't own these characters; I'm just borrowing them.

She sat alone at the table, sipping a margarita and watching the traffic in the pub. The place was crowded, so when an attractive 40-something man with sandy blonde hair asked "May I?" in reference to the chair across from her, she waved her hand in acquiescence. She expected him to move the chair to another table; she was shocked when he sat down.

"Hi." He flashed a smile that revealed a dimple in his left cheek as he reached across the table to shake her hand. "I'm Tom."

It took a second for her to react; she hadn't expected anyone to try to pick her up here, tonight. She briefly took his hand, then said, "Alex."

They made small talk for a few minutes and he managed to maker her laugh - twice. 'He's nice,' thought Alex fleetingly before she saw movement across the room. She put down her nearly empty glass and stood. "It was nice to meet you," she said as she turned to go.

"Wait, Alex," said Tom. He pulled a card from his wallet before he saw the hulking presence looming behind the woman he'd addressed. "Here - maybe we could have dinner sometime?" As he held the card out to Alex, he finally noticed Bobby, and to his credit, he didn't miss a beat. He'd already checked - no signs of a ring on her finger, so he had nothing about which to feel guilty.

"Maybe." Alex tucked the card into her pocket and smiled at him. "Good night."

Bobby's big, warm hand landed firmly in the small of her back as he escorted her from the bar. She could feel the tension radiating from him, but he didn't say a word until they were in the car.

"What was that, Eames?"

Her first impulse was to brush it off with a "nothing" and let it go. On second thought, she turned to face him. His face was impossible to read, but his eyes...they looked hurt.

"He seemed pleasant enough. What does it matter?" She held eye contact, trying to figure him out, but he turned away to face the window.

"You - you were getting picked up in a, a bar!" Bobby's temper was coming to the forefront, but now Alex was angry, too.

"I'm a grown woman, and it's not like I left with him! Jesus, Bobby."

Still staring out the window, he asked, "Do you think - will you call him?"

Alex sighed. "Like I told him - maybe." She brushed a lock of blonde hair out of her eyes. "Damn it, I don't have to answer to you about my personal life! I was waiting for you so we could leave; he sat down and we talked. That's it. What's the problem?"

He turned back to her, tilting his head to establish eye contact before he spoke. The silence stretched on as the struggle played across his face. Alex remained stone-faced for what felt like hours, but was no more than a minute, until Bobby finally found his words. "I don't...don't want you to call him, Eames."

A soft smile lifted one corner of her mouth. "Okay, Bobby." She squeezed his hand once, then turned her attention to driving, as Bobby discovered the business card she had slipped into his palm. He sighed in relief.